


Anyone Can Cook! (Except These Guys)

by daisydiversions



Series: There'd Be Days Like This [2]
Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Cooking, Gen, Slice of Life, orange jello
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisydiversions/pseuds/daisydiversions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashiwara makes the terrible mistake of forgetting that they aren’t real adults and invites them to a pot luck dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anyone Can Cook! (Except These Guys)

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently this is going to be a thing now.

Ashiwara makes the terrible mistake of forgetting that they aren’t real adults and invites them to a pot luck dinner.

To avoid the inevitable take-out ramen and combini sushi that would no doubt be contributed otherwise, everyone in their apartment is tasked with bringing dessert.

As if that is enough to prevent disaster.

Their kitchen had once been a lovely thing. Kaneko-san had gone with Hikaru to look at places and she insisted that there be plenty of counter space and redeemable appliances because, statistically speaking, one day, one of them would get laid and they would need a functioning kitchen and a decent breakfast to convince that person to stay.

She also mentioned that Touya probably preferred omelets to Pop Tarts, but Hikaru didn’t really get the correlation.

So, Hikaru had been bullied into a reasonably priced two bedroom with a decent commute to the Institute and a little patio deal on the fire escape where they kept saying they’d grill one day. Yashiro moved into the living room not long after by no formal means, other than the day he tossed a third of the rent on the kitchen table and declared he’d be taking over payment of all major utilities, so they wouldn’t have their water turned off again.

And now it is covered in orange powder.

“Shindou, you are the worst,” Waya declares ruthlessly, his newly tangerine-colored eyebrows raise mockingly.

Hikaru blinks back at him, his entire face coated in jello mix, staring to congeal on bits of his shoulder where it’s met the not-so-instant pudding they’d somehow failed at earlier. He can feel it react to the product in his fair, morphing into some mutant form.

“The top has to go _on_ the blender _before_ you turn it on, moron.” Waya smacks his shoulder with the oven mitts he’s been wearing for no other reason than that they are shaped like Daleks.

It's not as though they had plans to actually _bake_ anything. Hikaru doesn't have any personal experience that suggests the stove functions as anything more than the thing that enables him to make grilled cheese and Waya wasn’t much better.

His coughs in the form of an orange cloud that starts at a minute before suggesting, “Let’s just pick up some mochi on the way over.”

“Agreed,” Waya says, shuffling his way over to the paper towels.

Yashiro pops out of the bathroom, where he’s been clearly ignoring the timetable that Touya drew up for the last two hours, clean and fresh smelling, and Waya turns away abruptly to paw at his hair in a far-gone attempt to maintain some dignity. This is fair, since none of them have paid it any mind since Touya hung it on the fridge after the incident that ended in Hikaru showing up late on a game day and half the pro world speculated he was giving up go again. 

Hikaru insists that they at least leave it up for show, but it’s long since been covered and lost in the sea of kifu, take-out menus, and goofy photo booth pictures.

Kurata’s autograph is on there too, mostly because Hikaru didn’t have anywhere else to actually put it, but isn’t enough of a jerk to throw it away, even if there is a tomato sauce stain on one corner now.

If Yashiro thinks there is anything strange about the state of the kitchen, he doesn’t mention it, only throwing open the fridge door, pulling out a seven layer trifle that Hikaru _hadn’t even noticed_ and says, “Ready?”

Hikaru and Waya share a look and a shrug. “Yeah, lemme just go wash my face.”


End file.
